


Jon and Aegon vs Evil

by solitariusvirtus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Gen, PWP, Random & Short, Supernatural Elements, Unwinding, Wargs, just stuff i enjoy, waights - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6187759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every winter holiday has been the same for the entirety of Westeros for the past few hundred of years. No one is complaining; three months of free time during which one may choose to face the cold season or take shelter in the comfort of their house is nothing to be scoffed at.</p><p>Jon expects that this year will be the same. Or pretty much the same, given that his step-siblings are coming to stay after an absence of three years.</p><p>Except it isn't. Nothing's the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The skyflame flickered, small flakes of glittering snow blazing beneath the caress of the dim light. The very same light obscured the stars, not allowing even the brightest of them all to share in the glory of admiration. It was for the best perhaps. A soft gale swept through the narrow streets of the winter wonderland, meticulously picking up discarded papers and whatever else was light enough to be set afloat. 

Against a wall, a lone figure stood, hood obscuring every feature. From the relaxed posture one might assume there was no particular reason for them being about, perhaps if anything a mundane desire to stretch one’s legs had brought the young man out.

They would not be wrong. Rather they would be only partly wrong.

Jon shifted his weight from one leg to another, blowing warm air into his cupped hands. It was very near the hour of the ghosts. Thank the gods that nothing was waiting for him as far as activities were concerned. As all winters tended to go, and for the past four hundred or so years no less, had the residents of the charming Northerner town up and about, doing much needed provisions gathering for the next few moon turns. For his own part, he was happy to wait for his siblings to arrive.

One should hope they wouldn’t keep him here until sunrise. Although with the deviousness of the two, he couldn’t be that sure.

Thankfully for him, Jon was not given very much time to ponder the possibility as the last bus of the day pulled in the station, releasing an astounding wave of a total of five people upon the unsuspecting area. Two of them, as different as night and day, came dragging out luggage. They looked around with an air of familiarity, as if searching for known images.

One hand raised in greeting. Jon pushed his cowl backwards. “Here, you two. It’s only been three years.”

The girl snorted, as if to let him know she was not amused at having her memory questioned. Her companion grinned. “Three years of waiting. Can’t blame us.” 

The two of the shook hands and then Jon mock-bowed towards his eldest step-sister. “Sure can’t. So, are you guys ready for three months of nothing but snow?”

“As ready as I’ll ever get,” Rhaenys said, handing him one of her bags. “Please tell me there is a car waiting for us.”

Rolling his eyes, the youngest of the three shook his head, noticing that Aegon continued to grin. “You’ve been sitting for hours. A bit of leg stretching will do you good.” Despite not seeing to agree, his sister was forced to go along with him and Aegon. “And you can take in the sights.”

“What sights?” she grumbled. “Is there a new attraction? A funeral we haven’t been to?”

“Nothing like that,” Jon laughed. Much as they’d enjoy that, it was simply not the case. “But I do have a surprise.” He led them to a spot where a lone sleight awaited them. “Your carriage, m’lady.”

Aegon burst into laughter. He didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t amused. “Aren’t we being a little cheap? Only one horse power.”

“One direwolf power more like it.” That certainly didn’t help the hilarity of the situation. “So, Princess, are you going to climb today? Since your feet can’t take the long journey.”

Once upon a time, about three years ago, their father had brought along the very same sleight and they’d actually taken turns sitting on the thing. As it turned out, even the great and powerful Rhaegar Targaryen couldn’t pull them all along at the same time, especially given their bickering and pushing. Still it had been fun. Now Jon wasn’t that big on dragging his sister in his wake, but he supposed her luggage could hitch a hike.

“Never,” Rhaenys replied, faux-cheerily. She placed her valise on first, then Jon put the bag on top of it and Aegon gave up his own luggage. At least she wasn’t grumbling anymore. “But seriously, was it that hard to find a car?”

“Dad wanted to, Mother insisted not to.” Jon had always been happy enough to walk, but then again the move to Winter Town resulted in almost everything being within walking distance. Sunspear was a tad different as he’d heard it.

“She’s a witch,” the seventeen year old Rhaenys proposed, not a hint of malice in sight. It was simply not in her to be angry for more than a few minutes.

“A vampire,” Aegon argued, clearly pleased to be given such an opportunity, as he grabbed the reigns along with Jon. “Politicians are always vampires.”

“Sorry to break it to you,” Jon cut in, “but she’s clearly a warg.”

“Cold, calculated, frighteningly accurate and a formidable foe; sounds more like a vampire to me. Especially the cold.” He did have a point. Jon had to admit, but for one thing, his hypothesis might have been true.

“Aegon, she visited Dorne.” And that was how one went about giving irrefutable proof. “There’s an album full of pictures.” 

Of course, Lyanna Targaryen-Stark was as cold, calculated and menacing as his siblings made her out to be; especially in the political arena. Natural enough behaviour when one considered her past as a racer, one of the better ones. His mother loved winning, be it trophies or support or public attention. It was what she was good at.

Maybe of the many things she was good at would be more accurate. “At least you didn’t call her a waight. I suppose I should be grateful.” A moment of silence followed. “So, I went to the ruins yesterday.”

“And?” Aegon eagerly questioned. “It’s a go, right?”

“Not this again,” his sister whined. “You and your ruins.”

“The cellar of the old maester’s tower is still good.” Jon shrugged. “I ravened Domeric. He said he’s in if Robb comes. Robb says he can’t wait. Theon’s tagging along too.”

“We could haul up some mattresses, a small table. That should be enough, right?” his brother questioned, much to Rhaenys’ dismay. But the again, their sister rarely did tag along on their adventures. She preferred the company of a good lemon cake. Which meant she and Sansa would be right comfortable with one another.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon’s mother cleared her throat subtly, sifting her position upon the dark mahogany chair. Out of her formal attire, she did not look quite as formidable, Rhaenys decided. Or rather not quite as imposing. Dressed in a large sweater and soft leggings, she could have easily passed for a normal, stay-at-home mother; what with the careless ponytail and lack of makeup.

More used to seeing her on the crystal screens staunchly defending the regressive cavalcade of fat, bald and incredibly ill-chosen Hands of the King, mother Lyanna Stark was as much a stranger to Rhaenys as the rest of the lousy town. She wanted to be back in Sunspear with mother.

“Rhaegar.” the sudden interruption coming from Lyanna made her jump in her seat. Her father however did not look up from the file on his lap. Just what had she left Sunspear for? Rhaenys grumbled under her breath, having expected just the scenario, Jon deserved a medal for putting up with those two.

Truly, Rhaenys had never seen two people less suited for one another. Or more selfish. Take the case of her father. He brought home his work, then proceeded to ignore everyone else at the dinner table in favour of some petty thief or jealous cuck. Did he even notice that they were there?

Lyanna must have though much the same, for she repeated his name, quite forcefully. “Rhaegar. Not at the dinner table, please.” That got his attention.

While her father did look up, Rhaenys could see the blatant displeasure written all over his features and knew, just knew, it was not going to end well.

“I am working,” he replied evenly, fingers drumming upon the page he’d been reading.

“I thought we had agreed on this,” came the tired reply of what had to be the fakest rendering of concern ever. Rhaenys had the sudden need to wash away her embarrassment at how awful it was. She resisted the urge heroically, merely twitching in her seat. “Dinner time is family time.”

The folder snapped shut with a loud sound and then it found its way on the table, beside the scrumptious lemon cakes, much to Rhaenys’ horror. “This is not one of your damned speeches, Lyanna, nor am I one of those buffoons who will smile and nod their head at what you say.” It seemed to her that the conversation was an older wound having had its scab pulled off. 

Cross, the female at the other end of the table pushed her bowl of soup aside. “Why are you dragging my work into this? I didn’t bring it to the table.”

Jon and Aegon shared a look, both pushing their chairs backwards. It was a clear signal. Rhaenys, however, held still for a moment. She wanted to watch the fireworks. Her younger brother threw her an urging look. Having always wondered what was so great about this one woman that father would choose her over anyone else, Rhaenys was truly curious to see how it was working out.

Wood scarped violently against the tiles and Jon stood up, followed by Aegon. Whatever their father had wanted to say, it was lost. “I’m full,” the youngest let the rest of the room know. “Aegon and I are going to check our stuff.”

“But you’ve barely eaten anything,” Lyanna commented much to the annoyance of the other female. Must she take her acting so far?

“Oh no, I’m full too,” Aegon assured her, with an easy smile added for effect. Easy for them to say; they were going to have a full night to eat themselves to a stomach ache. “And we’d better be on our way anyhow. Rhaenys, we’ll drop you off at Sansa’s if you want.”

That left her with much of a choice. Rhaenys glared at her brother. He always had to cut her fun short. She stood to her feet nonetheless. “Sansa will be expecting me. Aegon is right.” She supposed she would have the pleasure of witnessing the bickering another day.

She saw Aegon snatch a few lemon cakes and innocently shove them into the large pocket on his sweater. A fitting apology. Rhaenys even managed a small smile, although the Seven knew her stomach would not be satisfied with a few measly pieces of sweets.

It seemed that father had his own words to add. The worry humbled her; or so Rhaenys imagined she should think. “Raven me as soon as you’ve arrived at Sansa’s. And the two of you can do the same once you’ve installed yourself in the tower.”

“Aye, aye, ser, “ Jon replied jauntily, while Aegon saluted with the customary hand over the heart of the Kingsguards order. 

Luckily for them, the parents were more concerned with their own squabble. So the three siblings were sent on their way with thin smiles and few words thereafter. Mush better as far as Rhaenys was concerned. When she arrived at Sansa’s she would spend a relaxing night there with a dear friend. It was all that a girl could ask for, really.

Aegon and Jon did check their things for one last time before ravening their friends and starting the long journey ahead, cocooned in thick clothing and their glee over being allowed a night without any kind of supervision. Personally, Rhaenys was sure a few unsuitable watching materials would be involved in the whole affair. A truly disturbing custom, but time honoured.

“Are we really going to walk the whole way?” Rhaenys had not been surprised when Lyanna did not offer to drive them. But when father had not offered either, she had truly been surprised.

“Take it as a sign of trust,” Jon advised soundly. “They’ll be more the thing tomorrow and they’ll even pick you up if you raven.” Well, she didn’t want to be picked up tomorrow.

“Nah, it doesn’t matter.” The response earned her a dry look from Aegon. “It doesn’t,” she insisted. “So, what are you guys going to be doing?”

“Theon brought Doom of Valyria and Jon packed Sands of Astapor. We’ll get by,” her brother answered, not without a hint of sarcasm. “I would ask what you’ll be doing, but I think we all know what it is already.”

“Now you’re just being mean,” Jon laughed. “Aegon, do be nice.”


End file.
